


Ceremony

by flecksofpoppy



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Prompt Fic, The Most Beautiful DEATH in The World, Triple Drabble, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, teacher/student relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alan passes graduation, he has a wonderful party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> For seerofscalemates on tumblr's prompt: _do you like doin alan/eric au stuff? if so student/teacher alan/eric is my guilty pleasure omg. if not then maybe somethin to do with breaking reaper rules (makin out on the job?) or hey sub!eric is another guilty pleasure. oops, smut on the brain_

Alan had ticked off the rules repeatedly when he was dispatched to London, most importantly, the ones about objectivity, professionalism, divinity.

He arrives with a case full of suits and resolve, and he’s assigned a mentor.

He hates himself more than ever when he weeps in the garden, purple flowers tickling his nose along with leather gloves that he clenches his fist within.

His new mentor asks him if he’s crying, to buck up, control himself. But it’s not cruel, and he smiles, and Alan wants to touch him, and the petals are just so beautiful as they blow around.

= = = =

There are rules about scythe maintenance, and when Alan chooses the slasher, he does it intuitively.

It also seems intuitive when Eric bends to tell him, arms around Alan’s shoulders, how to properly oil it and keep the steel alive.

“This is how…” he breathes, his voice unusually soft, “to care for it,” as his lips touch Alan’s neck.

“I’ve never had a real scythe,” Alan breathes as he feels Eric’s lips. They’re soft, and warm, and gentle. “I hope I chose the right one.”

“I think you did,” Eric replies softly. His tongue is lovely.

= = = =

When Alan passes graduation, he has a wonderful party.

No one attends, because it’s a private party. No one congratulates him, because he’s already busy. No one even presents him with his certificate, because he’s otherwise engaged.

The squeaking mattress, the hushed whispers, are enough for him. The feeling of his legs wrapped around Eric’s waist, the motion of the bed, the sensation of Eric’s breath against his ear as he says congratulations in quiet moans and whimpers, is enough.

They just lie together, staring, smiling in the dim afternoon light only fit for boring ceremonies.


End file.
